


Ahead of Herself

by Morbane



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Book: Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Developing Relationship, F/M, Missing Scene, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4195074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbane/pseuds/Morbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>B'lerion and Oklina's second needlethorn harvest. A missing scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ahead of Herself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Macdragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macdragon/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Once, And Nevermore](https://archiveofourown.org/works/95288) by [Thistlerose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose). 



> Thank you very much to theLiterator for your beta suggestions.

Ruatha was a grim sight from the air.

From her perch on Nabeth's neck, Oklina could see all of the desolation at once: the line of burial mounds that followed the roadway; the mocking tatters of bunting that clung to poles in the fields, and fluttered from the corners of the buildings; the carts pulled haphazardly here and there, out of the way but otherwise abandoned, with neither people to ride in them nor beasts to pull them, now.

B'lerion's arm tightened comfortingly around her as if he knew how sad her thoughts were. Maybe he did - maybe Nabeth had told him. Dragons could do that, couldn't they?

Then Nabeth landed, and his passengers were caught up in a flurry of activity that left little time for reflection. Alessan took charge of their cargo, Tuero's queries, and new people arriving on another dragon. As he helped Lady Moreta up on to blue Arith, to return to Fort Weyr, Oklina watched him, wanting reassurance - had he been as disheartened by the survey of Ruatha as she had been, or was he still buoyant from their day out of time?

When he turned back to her, his face was full of purpose, his tone resolute. "Ruatha must be put to rights, Oklina!"

"So it shall be," she assured him, determined that she would not fail him.

The most urgent task was to scrub the Great Hall. It was not the first step in restoring Ruatha, but a necessary procedure before they could prepare vaccine from, and for, the Hold's prized runnerbeasts. Still, as Oklina worked, she reassessed her surroundings. This pile of linens must be washed, but some could be returned to their original beds or cupboards; the need among the sick was not so great as it had been. Greenery was creeping in around the Hold. That must be dealt with, and soon, for there were still seven turns of Thread to pass, and a Hold's obligation to dragonriders must be upheld. She noticed small repairs that would soon become necessary, and for the first time in a long time, began to plan when she might effect them.

Though her mind was not entirely on her present task, her body was; she cleaned with a will. When she heard Desdra 's voice at the door behind her, she knew the journeywoman Healer would approve of the day's progress.

It was late. They had brought glow baskets out and uncovered them some hours before. Oklina's body ached from head to toe, and her thoughts meandered. It dawned on her that if Desdra had returned to Ruatha, B'lerion might have brought her. She got up, stiffly, and turned to look for him.

He and Desdra were in conference down the corridor. He looked up as she apparoached. "Ah," he said warmly, "the lady I most hope to see." She was too tired to do much more than smile, and lean - partly on him, partly on a doorframe, for propriety. "And it is not only myself who needs you," he continued, still extravagantly, "but all of Pern. I've a mind to claim a considerable amount of your time."

There was nothing she would like better than spending time with B'lerion, but she doubted he was merely flirting. He had mentioned, before, the idea of a second needlethorn harvest, with Desdra to accompany them. That must be what he intended. "Now?" Oklina asked, a little plaintively, rubbing her redwort-stained hands on her skirts, conscious of the fraying spots where she had knelt on them.

"Tired of me already?" B'lerion teased, then waved off any attempts to answer. He lowered his voice. "I know you're weary. Trust me, I've thought of that too. Now is the hour we have, Oklina!"

"I have spoken to Alessan," Desdra interjected - removing Oklina's real objection.

So it was that Oklina rode on a dragon again that day, although she could barely keep her eyes from closing, or keep herself from slumping forward over Nabeth's neck. Neither the great lurch when Nabeth sprang aloft, nor the deep chill of _between_ , fully roused her - but when he emerged again in warm air, she felt a most curious floating sensation, as though part of her were streaming before and behind her, as though her very shape were somehow blurry... Then the sensation was distinctly gone.

"What was that curious feeling?" Desdra asked, as casually as if she were asking about a phenomenon occurring very far away and to someone else.

"That was us, coming - and going," B'lerion explained. "I used the same sky references that we last saw in Ista; we arrived here just as we were departing there."

"From which one can deduce," Desdra said: "the greater the overlap, in selves present in any one time, the greater the disorienting effect."

"One can, perhaps," B'lerion said, "if one is in the position of having both theory and experience to begin with. Not even all dragonriders know about timing, Desdra."

"I am aware of the privilege," Desdra said, almost meekly.

B'lerion snorted. "I've told Nabeth to set us down over there," he said, pointing to a dull flat area illuminated by moonlight. It proved to be a large rock. Its surface was still warm from the day when they climbed down onto it.

"And now?" Oklina asked, exhausted, but conscious of the importance of their mission.

"Now, we sleep!" B'lerion announced. "We'll tire ourselves out again tomorrow - but rest now. Come, Oklina, let me prepare you a bed."

She glanced down without thinking, glad that the darkness hid her blush.

There were light blankets tied to Nabeth's harness, though it was so warm they barely needed any covers. Nabeth settled down on the rock, apparently comfortable, while the three humans made themselves up a camp in his shadow. B'lerion insisted on making Oklina a bed first, while Desdra arranged her own affairs. "Are you well?" he asked her, leaning over her. She squeezed his hand.

"A good-night kiss then," he said softly, bending further. " _Oh_ ," Oklina said, startled but delighted, aware that Desdra was close by. B'lerion kissed her gently on her lips. It was an effort to hold her head up even a little, so as to meet him, but she _wanted_ to! He broke the kiss before her tired neck could complain too much. Above them, Nabeth stirred a little, his great head in profile against the moon.

She watched him lay out blankets for his own rest, happy, and hopeful, and happy not to think too hard about anything. Amid a swirl of feelings, she wondered if sleep would come soon after all; but that was the last thought she had for some time.

Morning was as warm and bright as the previous day had been in Ista. Oklina awoke stiff and clumsy, but she thought that that was due to the labor of the previous day in Ruatha, not to her sleeping arrangements.

Porridge might have been pleasant, or klah, but there were few sticks dry enough to burn - everything around them was lush and green. B'lerion and Desdra had brought a little food with them, and Oklina gratefully shared it.

Before they left the clearing to collect needlethorns, Oklina laid a hand on Nabeth's side, briefly, to thank him for watching over them in the night. She imagined, by the green swirl in his eyes, that he was pleased.

Desdra - with something suspiciously like a twinkle in her eye - announced that she could pack and pick by herself, but Oklina might as well help B'lerion, who only had the use of one hand. Oklina blushed again, but B'lerion watched Desdra go with an oddly wry look, before leading her to a needlethorn grove.

He was in fine form all morning, keeping up a stream of quips that had her breathless with laughter. Today he told her stories not of Lord Holders, but of Weyr antics - human and dragon both. She knew very few of the names he mentioned, and she wondered if he'd changed some, for discretion's sake, but didn't dare ask.

"Ah, S'bar," B'lerion said, coming to the end of a tale. "I'd bet a mug of klah on the coldest morning in winter that he's on the injured list at High Reaches right now, and Gleath is dunking him in the lake."

Oklina blinked. She had accepted the idea that she, Desdra, B'lerion, and Nabeth, had gone to another time from the one she had left, but it had felt as if they travelled to another world as well. It made perfect sense, now she thought of it, but she had not quite imagined the ordinary day that people might be having all over Pern - _must_ be, for the vaccination effort _must_ work, and a second plague must be averted.

"How things will have changed, five months from the day we left," she murmured, her imagination fully engaged now.

"Not as much for me as for you, I suspect," B'lerion said lightly.

"In that time, we will have healed Ruatha," Oklina said, willing it to be true. "Cleared the roads, sowed and harvested the fields, aired the last sick-room... _I_ will have made Ruatha a hold to be proud of again."

B'lerion was looking at her a little sadly - with sympathy for what she had already lost? She wasn't sure.

"You do your Hold credit, Oklina, but is that the only future you imagine?"

Oh. She hadn't mentioned _him_. She hadn't been sure what he wanted of her... She still wasn't sure. How flattering, to hold a dragonrider's interest... and she did hope she charmed him as much as he charmed her. But she would have to marry, too. Surely he knew that?

"What my brother and Lady Moreta have," she said delicately, "is something unique..."

"And fragile," B'lerion admitted. "No - as a lady of Ruatha, you have me something as a disadvantage. But Orlith has laid a golden egg, and it hardens on the Fort Weyr sands. The Weyrs have need of a new rider for the new queen. Your brother has given his blessing for you to Impress."

Oh. _Oh!_ "Ruatha needs me," Oklina protested. He was offering her so _much_! A position of glory - and maybe his own affections? But was it right for her to accept it?

"Ruatha and Alessan needed you five months ago," B'lerion said. "But now, perhaps, a golden queen needs you more."

A golden queen who had already hatched and Impressed in the day they lived now.

A sudden thought made Oklina clutch B'lerion's hand. "B'lerion - there are two of you, and two Nabeths, in this moment. Aren't there?"

"Yes," he said, not yet understanding her meaning.

"Can you speak to the other Nabeth? If I have Impressed, can I - could I speak to my dragon?"

"In theory..." B'lerion said. For a moment, he looked tempted, and then he shook his head firmly. "No - if you thought merely existing in two timelines, or three, is confusing... Well. What if I became so muddled that I couldn't picture our way back? I won't try it, not even to make up your mind. Don't you try it either, Oklina." His face softened into a smile. "Wait a month, until you stand on the Hatching Ground. Then you'll see."

"You know no more than I do, B'lerion," she retorted.

He smiled. "Let's just say I have an instinct for these things," he said. "And you didn't object last night when I told you I would claim you for Pern's sake."

Oklina wasn't sure whether to frown or to smile. Ruatha came first, always. But if her duties were discharged... and Alessan saw favor in the idea... Wouldn't it be wonderful, to ride a golden dragon, to have a partner inside her mind and heart?

To court B'lerion as her courted her?

She shook her head, refusing to choose just yet.

But when they had harvested all that their nets could hold, and Nabeth glided over Ruatha again, she wondered which would speak to her more truly in five months' time: the sight of poor brave Ruatha, or a place on a dragon's back.


End file.
